


stay for a while longer

by Ceta



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, M/M, Misunderstandings, everything is okay yuuri, self-depreciation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 17:39:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12237561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceta/pseuds/Ceta
Summary: He was always going to leave, Yuuri reminds himself. Victor just stayed longer than Yuuri thought he would, and he'd - stupidly - gotten his hopes up and is just getting the reality check he needs.He brushes his thumbs over the back of Victor's hands, unable to face that look burning in his blue eyes, and smiles."I think a break would be good," he murmurs, quiet.Or; There's a bit of a misunderstanding.





	stay for a while longer

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write something angsty just to see how it'd go, but then I got tired of the angst somewhere along the way and it ended so softly and I was like okay this is good.

Yuuri wonders when he last felt this gaping, ever-expanding crater of inadequacy burrow deeper and larger in his chest, overwhelming, just shy of manageable. He's fallen more times than he can count, palms stinging and head sore with the frustration of knowing he can do better but being unable to string together a single error-free program to prove it. Even worse, every time he messes up, Victor's eyes narrow further, grow darker, and Yuuri fears that the look on his face is  _contemplation_.

 

Yuuri knows down to the marrow of his bones that Victor is considering to leave. Lately, he's confined Yuuri to stretches or workouts - something he hasn't done since he first got here, when Yuuri was inadequate and needed to change to keep whatever this was between he and Victor. It's a reminder in the forefront of his mind, one that tells him he'll lose Victor if he doesn't prove himself now when he's finally been allowed on the ice.

 

Catching his breath, Yuuri steels himself and gets into the starting position for his free skate. The quad flip is still the obstacle between him and a perfect performance, but Yuuri knows he can do it, has already done it a handful of times before, and he'll be damned if he can't do it now when he needs to show Victor that staying with Yuuri, even for a short while, wasn't -  _isn't_ \- a mistake. He starts with determination flickering alive in his chest, and everything goes more or less well as he continues through his program. 

 

"Amazing, Yuuri," Victor calls from where he stands on the ice, leaning against the barrier. The praise fills the carnivorous need in Yuuri's heart, raises him higher and makes him think,  _I can do it. I can do it._

 

_Victor won't leave._

 

When the time for the quad flip approaches, Yuuri feels light. He gains speed and everything is going so well that he can't help but think he'll land it. 

 

He's in the air for barely a second before he crashes back to the ice. He shudders in a deep breath, feels his treacherous head ache, and barely hears Victor's concerned call when he lies there for a second too long before he bites out through gritted teeth, "I'm fine." 

 

He feels like an idiot, a waste of space, a waste of Victor's time, a complete, utter  _failure_ -

 

"Yuuri, here." A hand reaches out for him, another settles between his shoulder blades, and Yuuri thinks, violently, _Stop it_ , when he looks to see Victor's worried eyes. "Can you get up? That was a nasty fall there."

 

Victor is watching him with that look in his eyes, the one that makes Yuuri's insides shrivel up, the one that makes him blurt out, desperate and more than pleading, "Let me try again."

 

Victor hesitates for only a heartbeat, looking Yuuri over with a critical eye, before he tells him, "We've been here long enough, Yuuri." He grins, but Yuuri still sees that  _look_ in his eyes, and it makes something heavy and unbearable plunge into his gut. "As your coach, I think it's about time you take a break."

 

A break. 

 

Yuuri knows, rationally, that Victor is only talking about for today. Victor has been his strongest supporter ever since he decided to try competing again, pushing and pushing and believing that Yuuri would make it through whatever obstacle in the way. Yuuri is eternally grateful that Victor believes in him so much; sometimes, because of it, Yuuri can believe in himself too. 

 

Yet, other times, Victor is also his greatest fear. 

 

He doesn't mean to, but Yuuri's face falls, heart cracking just a bit. It isn't anything serious. It'll be better by tomorrow, will become nothing but a memory of how melodramatic Yuuri can be at the slightest of things, so there's no point in focusing so much on how he can't seem to breathe quite as easily. He's still breathing, after all. 

 

"A break?" Yuuri asks weakly, trying to keep his voice even. He hopes, vainly, that he had heard wrong. "I'm fine, Victor, I promise. I can still skate- "

 

"There's no point in wearing you out for longer if your head isn't in it," Victor cuts him off, though not sharply. He's gentle with his tone despite his harsher words, but still Yuuri feels as though Victor is driving a knife into his leg. He takes Yuuri by the hand and pulls him to his feet. "Come, Yuuri. Let's go back and get some rest. It's been a long day."

 

All Yuuri can hear, despite Victor's comforting words by his ear, is a small voice in the back of his head saying, distant and trembling,  _I'm not good enough. Victor is going to leave. I was never good enough._

 

It's his fault, in the end, for getting his hopes up. For believing in the  _maybe_ that persuaded him to open his heart to someone as temporary as Victor Nikiforov, to believe that something as insignificant as his love could be unconditionally returned. 

 

Their relationship has always revolved around skating. Yuuri thinks himself an idiot for considering for a moment that this love overwhelming him could become something mutual without skating there to hold it by the seams. It's laughable, really - embarrassing, even. 

 

Yuuri knows he's nothing without his skating. With even that slipping out of his grasp, that reality is unraveling in Victor, who's only here  _because_ of Yuuri's skating. 

 

_I wasn't good enough_ , that small voice says again as Victor helps him off the ice. His hands are gentle and so, so comforting around his that Yuuri has to shut his eyes to play ignorant to the inevitable just for as long as Victor is warm and real when they touch like this. 

 

It's okay, though. It's fine. Yuuri had already prepared himself for this. 

 

_Victor is going to leave me._

 

And Yuuri is fine with it. He'll let Victor go. 

 

It's not like Victor deserved to be held back by Yuuri, anyway. He's meant for great things - greater things - and Yuuri refuses to be the reason why Victor didn't take the opportunity to turn the world on its head by breaking boundaries once again.

 

_Victor is going to leave me_ , that voice whimpers again. 

 

He was always going to leave, Yuuri reminds himself. Victor just stayed longer than Yuuri thought he would, and he'd - stupidly - gotten his hopes up and is just getting the reality check he needs.

 

He brushes his thumbs over the back of Victor's hands, unable to face that look burning in his blue eyes, and smiles.

 

"I think a break would be good," he murmurs, quiet.

 

Victor hears him anyway, like he always does, and he smiles that heart-shaped smile that never fails to make Yuuri's heart twist in his chest. 

 

* * *

 

_(He's happy because he doesn't have to waste any more time on me -)_

 

* * *

 

The next day, Yuuri wakes up reluctant and weary. His head is pounding, enough for him to feel helpless the moment he wakes up. Coupled with the resounding thought of Victor leaving, Yuuri can't gather the will to face reality.

 

Somehow, though, he still manages to, and he leaves for the rink with his head held high.

 

(Victor, he notes, had left earlier. It isn't the first time - far from it - but a voice in the back of his head reminds him that it might as well be the last time.

 

Yuuri refuses to acknowledge the way his head hurts at the thought, the way his heart aches, the way his eyes burn.)

 

(Yuuri doesn't want to cry. If not for himself, then at least for Victor so that he can leave easier.)

 

When he laces on his skates and walks into the rink, he's greeted by the sight of Victor skating. It's an old routine, the one he skated after he cut his hair, and Yuuri remembers it crystal-clear, like any other of Victor's routines, but it's different now. Yuuri can do nothing but stare, transfixed, as Victor continues to skate.

 

The presentation is nothing Yuuri's seen before, rivaling the melancholy that made Stay Close to Me so riveting - going, perhaps, beyond even that as Victor lets go and pours his emotions into the crevices his skates carve on the ice.

 

_And you thought you could keep him all to yourself_ , Yuuri thinks, teeth clamping down hard on the inside of his cheek.  _You thought Victor could never want for more._

 

Yuuri's an idiot. His head hurts and heart aches, and Yuuri's so  _oblivious_. There were signs. Victor has been focusing less on him skating, recently, has been coming to the rink earlier, has been telling Yuuri  _I think that's enough_  or _You should take a break_ , and Yuuri's such an idiot for not acknowledging them until now.

 

"Victor," Yuuri calls out, and he hates himself for the way his voice cracks. His head hurts with how his thoughts are swirling around it. He swallows down his heart stuck in his throat and calls louder when Victor doesn't stop skating.

 

Victor's eyes are wide with surprise when he skids to a stop and sees Yuuri at the barrier. "Yuuri!" He skates over to him and immediately reaches out to peer worriedly at him. "What are you doing here?"

 

Heart stopping, Yuuri stares back at Victor. "I- I came here to practice." When Victor's brows draw together, Yuuri feels as though someone's dumped ice-cold water over his head. "Was I- Am I not skating today?"

 

"I thought I told you to take a break," Victor says, sounding confused with the faintest edge of exasperation lining his words. He continues on, unaware of how Yuuri's frozen stiff. "I know how much you love skating, Yuuri, I do too, but you also need to learn when to stop - not that I'm the best at doing that either. Plus, you've been..."

 

Victor goes on talking, but Yuuri can't hear him over the pound of his pulse in his ears. "It wasn't just for yesterday?" Yuuri hears himself ask.

 

"Well, of course not," Victor replies, looking somewhat baffled that Yuuri even had to ask. "Yuuri, you're going to need to take off for a while longer before you can get back on the ice. I know I'm reckless, sometimes, but even I wouldn't- "

 

"I don't understand."

 

Victor stops, startled, and asks, "Understand what?"

 

Yuuri looks at Victor, who looks genuinely confused, and feels something within him shrivel up and die. "If you don't want me to skate, why couldn't you just say so?" Yuuri asks. "You don't have to beat around the bush, Victor. It's- it's - "

 

_Cruel_ , Yuuri thinks, but Victor has never been intentionally cruel to him, has only ever been attentive and supportive, and Yuuri can't bring himself to say it out loud after everything Victor's given to him.

 

"If you want to leave," Yuuri says, and his voice is so, so quiet, "all you have to do it say so."

 

Victor stares at Yuuri like he just tore out with heart with a smile. "What?" he chokes out. He reaches out but Yuuri steps away from the touch. "Yuuri, I don't want to leave - I'm not going to. What made you think that I'd...?"

 

Yuuri aches. "You want to skate," he says, even though he's not sure if it's much of an answer. His head is light, the ache swallowing him whole as heat crawls up his spine and digs its claws into his heart. "You don't - I'm not- not  _good enough_."

 

_To keep you here with me_ , goes unsaid, but Yuuri knows it clear as day.

 

Victor's expression shutters off. "Who said that?" he asks, and it rolls down Yuuri's spine like ice water, frigid. "Who told you that you weren't good enough?"

 

Yuuri's fingers curl. "No one. I thought- "

 

" _Why_ would you think that- "

 

"Because you don't want to coach me anymore!" Yuuri nearly yells, voice hoarse. He presses a hand to his eyes, feels a familiar heat rise at the action, and berates himself. _Don't cry. Don't you dare cry. Not in front of Victor_. Quieter, he says, "I know you miss skating."

 

There's not a sound for a long moment, nothing but Yuuri's foreboding pulse thudding in his ears, and he shoves down the dread that rises from his gut and suffocates his lungs. His heart stumbles and twists when he hears Victor's heavy exhale, shrivels away to hide from the inevitable.

 

"I think," Victor says, and it's gentle, "that there's been a misunderstanding."

 

_What_? Yuuri thinks, dazed, but Victor is already continuing.

 

"I've been keeping you off the ice because you haven't been well, Yuuri, not- not because you haven't been _skating_ well, but because you're sick and I wasn't going to push you, not when you were like that - like this - and- "

 

"I'm not sick," Yuuri says, and it comes out incredulous. He lifts his gaze and meets Victor's eyes. "I'm not- I would _know_ \- "

 

"Yuuri, you've been tiring quicker, sleeping earlier, eating less- "

 

"That was my - " _anxiety_ , he can't bring himself to say, but Victor's expression softens in understanding.

 

"Mari stopped me a few days earlier, in the morning before I went to the rink," Victor tells him. "She said to take it easy on you for a while, that you weren't feeling well, and when I heard that, I wanted to keep you off the ice altogether until you were better but thought it would help if you were able to skate for a bit. It's nice and cool here, and it used to help with my fevers, too." He pauses, his gaze indecipherable. "Mari said you weren't good at noticing these things - when you got sick, I mean. She said you were too stubborn for it."

 

Yuuri starts. It's not a lie, at least; Yuuri's family is intimately aware of his tendency to forgo his health when he's set on something, and when he'd been in Detroit, Phichit and Celestino both learned how terrible he is when it came to pushing his limits. With Celestino, though, Yuuri _had_ been confined to bedrest with orders to keep away from the rink until he was better. With Victor, he'd been suffocating on his anxiety because Victor tried to come up with a compromise - but only because Yuuri's too hard-headed for his own good.

 

Pressing the back of his hand to his cheek, to his forehead, feeling the heat burning beneath his skin contrast with the cool air of the rink, Yuuri shivers. "Oh," he says, and he feels incredibly stupid for his breakdown, how close he'd been to tears. He bites his lip, averts his gaze from Victor's. "...I'm sorry. I didn't- I didn't even realize."

 

Victor presses a hand to his arm, smiles. "I'm sorry, too. I should've said something earlier, instead of doing all of this." Yuuri misses the way his expression goes tight. "If I knew it'd make you think that I wanted to leave, or that you were anything but perfect, then I wouldn't have done it at all. You're amazing, Yuuri. Please don't think yourself as anything less."

 

Yuuri feels an inexplicable warmth, liquid and bright, fill him from head to toe at the honest praise. He also feels like crying again.

 

"Let's hurry back so you can rest," Victor says, squeezing Yuuri's arm before he skates over to the entrance of the rink. Yuuri mechanically takes takes off his skates as Victor shuffles about, and soon they're walking back to the onsen, Victor's presence reassuring by his side.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri's been in and out of sleep for what seems like nearly a day when he wakes up in the middle of the night to gentle, sweeping caresses on the back of his hand. 

 

"I'd never leave you," Victor is murmuring as he comes to. "I love you too much for that."

 

When Yuuri cracks open his eyes, groggy and slow, he sees Victor gazing down at him from his bedside, the lamp light painting his features in a warm orange-gold. He continues to sweep his thumb back and forth across the back of his hand, great soothing brushes that calms the initial pang of confusion into something less - something calm and quiet.

 

"I'd never want you to go," Yuuri says, sleepily. It takes a bit of effort, but he manages to catch Victor's hand into his, holds on tight as he shuts his eyes with a content sigh. "Stay."

 

_Forever_ , he wants to add, but sleep is dragging him back, erasing the edges of reality that'd managed to creep into his consciousness. 

 

He misses the way Victor's eyes gleam something watery, the way he brings their clasped hands to his lips, the way his voice goes soft and warm and desperate in equal measures when he promises, "Always."

 

 


End file.
